404
by WiseBlondeWarrior
Summary: A collection of oneshots (sometimes maybe more) that revolve around the reader and Connor's relationship! I am taking requests in the comments and on my Tumblr at bluehairedtrxci.
1. Meet-Cute

You sat at your desk, idly playing with a pen. You'd heard rumors about something new and exciting happening around the precinct but nothing had happened yet.

"Hey, Reed," you called. He looked up from his own paperwork with a lazy smirk on his face. He obviously was anticipating some biting remark and was preparing his own in advance. "You're not getting fired, are you?"

"Nope, sweetheart. I'm here to stay," he said. Damn it. So it wasn't that. You could see Chen roll her eyes across from him. Whether it was at your callous comment or at his response, you couldn't tell. You sighed and twirled your pen even faster. The desk across from the lieutenant had been dusted off and prepped. Someone was showing up soon but no one had come in for interviews. Some transfer from another precinct?

You felt as though your excitement might've been unwarranted. It was probably just a new detective, after all. Although, your mind as running wild with possibilities. Maybe the precinct was getting an upgrade. God knows they could use it with their tech becoming increasingly outdated. Ooh, what if they were getting an android assistant? That'd be cool.

"Detective!" Fowler called. Your head snapped up and the pen slipped gracelessly from your fingers. He pointed a menacing finger at you. "You better have that paperwork finished tonight."

"Yes, Captain," you replied. Save the fantasies for later. Work now. With a heavy sigh, you dragged your data pad closer and brought it to life. You settled in for hours of paperwork, already feeling the ache in your back.

Time flew by agonizingly slow as you finished paper after paper. The only hiccup occurred at the stroke of midnight. An officer busted into the precinct, struggling with the criminal in her hands. You stood and watched her push him towards the holding cells. They were never gonna make it; there was only one of her and the man was much bigger than her. You were surprised that she managed to handcuff him in the first place.

You grabbed your baton from your belt and strode over, ready to stop him when he made a break for the exit. What happened next was so fast that you thought you couldn't possibly be blamed for it.

The criminal broke free of the officer's hold and body slammed her into the wall. He sprinted towards the exit, towards you. You extended your baton, ready to take him down with a well placed hit to the knee. At the same time, you heard the doors open behind you. Your arm was already in motion and you felt something connect with the baton on your backswing. _Oh my god, I just nailed a civilian in the face,_ you thought. It didn't stop you from hitting the criminal although, instead of falling onto the ground, he fell into another person.

"What the hell?" Anderson shouted as you scrambled to grab the criminal. The person he fell into, however, grabbed him by the jacket and forcefully shoved him into the wall. Despite all his struggling, he couldn't break free.

"Are you okay?" you asked the person. They were the closest, they had to be the one you hit.

"I am quite alright," he responded casually as though he wasn't holding a squirming, writhing individual. You grabbed the criminal's right arm as the officer grabbed his left. Together, you hauled him off to a holding cell. Just as you unlocked his handcuffs, he whirled around and delivered a nasty left hook to your face. The baton came out again and you hit the same knee you had only moments earlier. The criminal crumpled in a heap and you grumbled under your breath as you headed out of the cell. You nodded quickly to the officer and turned to get the first aid kit.

As you turned, you came face to face with the most beautiful, brown doe-eyes you'd ever seen. "Are you alright, detective?" he asked. His eyebrows knit together as he stared you down. "You're bleeding," he continued. You raised a hand to your lip, which had started stinging, and your fingers came away bloodstained. _Oh, that rat bastard._ The criminal had split your lip with that punch. The man was still staring at you. When you still didn't say anything, he placed a steady hand on your upper back. "Here, I can help."

You walked slightly ahead of him and led the way to the break room. He gestured for you to sit while he grabbed a plastic bag, paper towels, and opened the freezer. He must be who the desk was for, you realized. Was he the new exciting thing around the office?

He paused and grabbed the first aid kit from its place on the wall. "What's your name?" you asked, tasting copper as your mouth moved.

"My name is Connor," he said as he dragged a chair up to sit in front of you. "I am the android sent by CyberLife." Your heart skipped a beat. The first thing you thought was, _You're a shit detective if you didn't notice that he was an android_. The second thing you thought was, _Wow._ You didn't know androids could be so damn pretty. You'd been inside the Eden Club once or twice and you'd seen the new models in magazines but… none of them compared to who was sitting in front of you.

You introduced yourself and still managed to be surprised when he said, "I know. I've already scanned you and several other detectives." You fell silent, partly because he was smearing antibiotic ointment on your lip, partly because you couldn't trust your voice. You weren't one to fall victim to cute boys or burly men or develop schoolgirl crushes. Most of the time. The longer you sat this close to Connor, the more your heart raced.

"Detective," he interrupted. You jolted upright and tore your gaze away from his freckles. Why would they put freckles on an android? "Please hold this on your lip to help with the swelling," Connor instructed. He placed the bag of ice in your hand and leaned back in his chair as you pushed it against your lip. The cold quickly seeped into your wound, leaving it numb. Connor stared you down all the while.

"S'what're you doin' here?" you asked. Your voice was muffled and garbled by the ice pack but the message came across all the same. Connor pulled a coin out of his pocket and started twirling it between his fingers. The movement caught your eye immediately. You followed the coin as it danced across his fingers, spinning this way and that.

"I am a prototype android meant to assist with police investigations. I have been assigned all cases dealing with deviants," he said. He had a matter-of-fact way of speaking that intrigued you. His brown eyes narrowed as he stared at you. His gaze danced across you, up and down and back up again. He was analyzing you, you realized.

"S'anything interesting?" you asked, quirking an eyebrow. Connor tilted his head and tossed the coin up abruptly. It landed squarely in his palm. _What a human quirk to have,_ you mused.

"You own a dog. German shepherd hairs on your top," he said with a pointed glance. "You used to play sports. Calluses on your palms. You spent this past summer in the sun. Fading tan lines from your watch." You nodded appreciatively. A smile spread over your face and, although your lip screamed in protest, no more blood flowed into your mouth. "I like dogs," Connor said unprompted. The corner of his mouth twitched up. You doubted they programmed him to like dogs. CyberLife's prototype was definitely flawed in terms of android production. In your opinion, Connor was perfect. You were about to ask him more but you were swiftly interrupted.

"Connor!" Anderson barked as he entered the break room. "What the hell are ya doin'? Come on!" Connor stood and headed off without so much as a glance back. You were quick to follow. Your curiosity about the case and your intrigue about Connor warred with each other. Your boots made loud thumps as you raced to keep up with the two men in front of you. When you reached your destination, you couldn't quite decide how to justify your presence in the observation room. However, if Anderson or Connor minded, neither of them said anything.

"What happened, sweetheart? Trip over your own two feet again?" Reed asked when he saw you with the ice pack. You unceremoniously flipped him off.

"The detective was hit by a criminal in the holding cells," Connor said in a monotone. Although it was the truth, you wished he hadn't said it. Reed let out a bark of laughter. His laugh was always too loud, too ugly, too cruel. It grated on your nerves every time you heard it across the room. It was usually directed at some poor person who didn't do anything. Part of Gavin Reed just felt cruel and unforgiving. You wondered if you'd ever get used to it.

"Oh," he chuckled, "Some big baddie got to you? This is why you shouldn't be a detective." Connor turned his head and opened his mouth, presumably to defend you but that would only bring Reed's wrath down on him. You grabbed Connor's wrist in a warning. His gaze turned down towards you and you responded with a shake of your head. _Don't. It's not worth it._ His puppy dog eyes turned quizzical but he remained silent.

"Whas the plan?" you asked, still holding the ice pack to your lip. It was starting to melt and was dripping down your wrist in a slow, steady stream. The cold water only served to annoy you.

The door to interrogation opened and two officers led in the deviant. For a moment, you paused and looked him over. He was dirty, his clothes were torn, and he was covered in blue blood. He would look like any other person if not for the exposed wiring where he'd been hit. "We're gonna make him wait and then I'll talk to him," Anderson said.

"How long?" you asked.

"As long as we need to. Why are you even here?" he snapped, turning his annoyance on you. You floundered for an excuse. Your eyes instinctively flicked towards Connor who was standing as an impassive barrier between the two of you. Anderson raised a hand and waved it off with an impatient grumble. He headed towards the door and slammed it behind him. The door to interrogation never opened as you thought it would. The silence that followed his absence was deafening. You feared that Reed was preparing some snarky remark so you turned the attention to Connor.

"What's the case?" you asked. You finally pulled the ice away from your face and lobbed it into a trash can before it had the chance to fully melt. Connor reached a hand up and cupped your chin. His hand felt similar to a human's but it set your skin ablaze and your heart racing. His gaze narrowed in on your lip. After a few moments, he let you go but you felt the ghost of his touch while he described the details of the case.

You and Reed interrupted every so often with questions but remained silent otherwise. As Connor was wrapping up the events that had transpired, Anderson walked back in holding a cup of coffee. "Ready?" you asked. You couldn't help it; you just wanted this to be over. The deviant looked so sad and lonely that you wanted it to suffer as little as possible. It was getting deactivated; there was no doubt about that. You just didn't want it to sit and think over its ending for hours on end.

"I'll be ready when I'm ready," Anderson snapped. He glanced toward you and did a double take. "Jesus, what happened to your lip?"

"Perp in holding hit me," you said, shrugging your shoulders. Anderson shook his head and sipped on his coffee. The four of you stood in awkward silence, staring at the deviant. Anderson finally sighed and tossed his coffee cup in the garbage.

"Let's get this confession." Except that's not what happened. No amount of coaxing could get it out of the machine. Even when Connor took a crack at him, he had to resort to probing his memory. The deviant screamed in pain when Connor took his forearm. You cringed back just a bit. This isn't what you had in mind when you wanted to watch the interrogation. Connor announced that he knew what happened and stood to leave.

The deviant had only been shaking and shivering as though cold but as soon as Connor opened the door to leave, a loud bang sounded. You flinched as you watched the deviant slam his head into the table again and again and again. You reacted quickly, running to the door and into interrogation. Reed shoved the officer forward, telling him to get the deviant to stop. No matter how hard he pulled though, the officer couldn't get him to stop.

Desperately, the officer unlocked his restraints. Faster than you expected, the deviant drew the officer's gun, leveled it, and fired. You felt a spatter of something wet and Connor fell to the floor. The deviant turned the gun on himself and he, too, got a bullet in his skull. You dropped to your knees and pulled Connor's head into your lap but it was useless. Those beautiful eyes stared unblinking at the ceiling. You felt sick to your stomach.

"Holy shit!" Anderson said. You looked helplessly up at the other people in the room. Even Reed looked perturbed. No one spoke for several long moments. You scrambled up and ran out of the room. "Kid-" Anderson started but he did not come after you.

Thankfully, you were the only one in the precinct otherwise you would've garnered some strange looks. The bathroom was also empty. You gazed at your reflection. Tears were starting to pool in your eyes although you willed those away. Blue blood splattered your face and soaked your jeans where you had cradled Connor's head.

You were standing _so close_ to him when he got shot. The water was bitterly cold as it washed over your hands, turning the sink blue, and all you could do was watch it flow down the drain.

Connor was busy analyzing the contents of Lieutenant Anderson's desk but he did not miss the exclamation from the door of the office. "Oh my god!" It was the kind detective that got hit by a criminal the day before. He turned, placing the headphones back on the lieutenant's desk, and watched as you hurried towards him. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" you said as you got closer.

"Your lip looks remarkably better, detective," Connor noticed. A flush appeared on your cheeks. A quick scan showed that your heart rate was 125 bpm. You looked fatigued and worried. "Are you alright?" he asked. You shook your head and buried your face in your hands. Something in him made him reach out and gently grasp your wrists. As he tugged your hands away, he saw a flickering sign. _Software instability._ That had been happening around this detective for some odd reason.

"I just…" you sighed. "I saw you get shot in the head."

"My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed but it will not impede my investigation. CyberLife downloaded my memories," he said. He had hoped the words would make you feel better but they seemed to distress you more. Connor deemed that causing you distress made him feel unpleasant. He looked down and realized that he was still holding your wrists. You quickly stepped back from him and cleared your throat. Without another word, you walked over to your desk and sat down, kicking your bag underneath your desk.

"Detective!" Fowler called. Connor turned back to the lieutenant's desk but kept part of his focus on your conversation. You ambled closer to the captain to see what he wanted. "You're on the team with Anderson and the android. Investigate the deviants."

"But you said I wasn't going into the field today!" you protested. "Not after… after what happened last night." Connor didn't know that his being destroyed would cause you so much dismay. He replayed the events in his mind. You were standing very close to him. The proximity to the events unnerved you.

"It's back, detective. I don't think this warrants desk work. Head home so you can get your belt and your badge." You stormed away from the captain and plopped down in your desk chair. Connor wandered over to you, analyzing as he went.

You also had a music player on your desk. He wondered what kind of music it was filled with. Several pictures of friends were scattered around your desk. In one of them, you looked to be wearing a uniform and holding a child on your hip. A quick scan showed that this child was not related to you. A counselor of some sort? There was also a stack of books. Not many people nowadays used paper books. The titles ranged from non-fiction to sci-fi to mystery.

"You are a counselor?" Connor asked as he approached. He took in your slumped shoulders and the weary sigh you gave him before answering.

"Yeah. Every summer for a month. Been going since I was a kid. It's a lot different though," you said. "A lot of my coworkers are androids. I don't even think the kids know the difference sometimes." Connor furrowed his brow as he attempted to ferret out the hidden meaning in your words. There was nothing you'd said or done to indicate that you don't like androids. He'll have to ask your feelings on that later.

Connor took a few steps closer and sat down in the chair next to your desk. He grabbed your music player and put one of the earbuds in his ear. He pressed play. A slow, sad song started up. It was an old one too. Apparently you were into the classics.

"Connor," you said. He looked up at the sound of your voice. He determined that your voice was pleasing to listen to. Something about it was just… it stirred something in him. _Software instability._

"It's not polite to poke around in other people's stuff," you said, never losing your amused smile. Although you were reprimanding him, you looked nothing short of cheerful. Of course, you still showed signs of fatigue and distress. Humans had such complex feelings.

"Oh," Connor said. He put down your music player. "I'm sorry, detective." You simply shook your head and chuckled.

"If you want to know anything, all you have to do is ask," you said. He thought on that for a moment. He had many questions when he thought about it. They ran through his mind in seconds but he settled on one you'd both like.

"What's your dog's name?" He liked dogs. They were playful and loyal. They were always excited to see you. They came in all shapes and sizes, just like humans. You held up and finger and pulled your phone out of your pocket. Your fingers tapped away before you turned the screen around and showed him. The first picture was of a German Shepherd puppy. It was almost smaller than his hand. You swiped a finger to show presumably the same dog, just older. It was bigger with one ear that flopped down. Connor felt himself smile at that cute little quirk. _Software instability._

"His name is Cooper. He's only three months old," you said with a smile to match his own. You swiped the screen again and the picture showed you curled up with him on a couch. Cooper now easily engulfed your lap and would soon be too big for cuddling on the couch.

"He's very cute." You beamed at the compliment. Silence fell between you two. Your gaze fell to the data pad propped up on your desk while Connor scanned the rest of the precinct. He caught sight of Gavin Reed glaring daggers at him. Connor simply stared back, waiting for him to make a move. "What are your thoughts on Detective Reed?" Connor asked.

"Guy's an asshole. He's a good detective though. Not better than me," you added with a smirk. Connor pulled up your records and compared them to Reed's. You had 41 arrests and 35 homicides solved; Reed had 52 arrests and 22 homicides solved.

"Detective Reed has 52 arrests on record compared to your 41," Connor said. Your smirk faded. While Connor didn't share your displeasure, he understood it. Humans didn't like to be one-upped. It was a large reason they felt threatened by androids with their intelligence, physical and mental stamina, and advanced skill sets.

"Not," Connor added hurriedly, "that it means much. Your homicide cases have been solved a lot more than his." You waved off his compliment with a shrug. You turned your desk chair to face him.

"We're not competing. If we're tackling crime, we need to be doing it together."

"That's incredibly mature, detective," Connor said. He was proud of you for feeling that way. _Software instability._

"Morning, lieutenant," you called, your gaze going over Connor's head. The lieutenant looked Connor's way and made eye contact. He grumbled something under his breath. He was perturbed by last night's events too. "We gotta head out ASAP. The AX400 that attacked its owner stole some cash from a convenience store last night." You spoke matter-of-factly, ignoring the lieutenant's bedraggled appearance. It seemed that his drunkenness was common knowledge around here.

"Whaddaya mean 'we?'" he asked. You stood, shouldering your bag as you went.

"The detective has been appointed to help us with the deviants," Connor said as he also stood. He looked over the lieutenant. He seemed to be worse for the wear; his hair was unkempt and his clothes were wrinkled and rumpled. The lieutenant raised his eyebrows and scoffed. With a shake of his head, he turned back the way he came, fishing his keys out of his pocket. You headed out after him and Connor was quick to follow.

In the car, the lieutenant had demanded that you sit up front. You accepted with only a little hesitance. In return, however, you demanded control of the radio. You turned on an old song and started singing along. "Kid, I don't know how you can stand this stuff," the lieutenant said.

"C'mon, it came out when you were young!" you exclaimed.

"Yeah, they keyword being 'young.' I'm old now and it sounds like garbage." Despite his rude words, he made no move to stop you from enjoying the music. The lieutenant drove downtown where the building soared into the sky. He stopped at one such building, indistinguishable from the ones next to it.

You exited the car but paused and turned. You approached Connor's window and gestured for him to roll it down. A blast of cold air ruffled his air as he rolled it down. "You wanna come see Cooper?" you asked. Connor straightened up and nodded. He offered a small smile but felt the urge to let it widen into a real one. He controlled the impulse and left the car. "Be right back, Anderson!" you called. He grumbled something back but Connor had stopped paying attention. He was focused on the prospect of seeing your dog.

The doorman, also an android, smiled and nodded as you two passed. "Hi, Josie!" you called before striding into the already waiting elevator. The doors shut, closing you two into a small space. The longer you two waited, you humming underneath your breath, the faster Connor's thirium pump beat. Was something wrong with his regulator? The problem only worsened when the doors opened on large windows spanning the whole wall of the complex.

"Come look at this view!" you said excitedly. You grabbed his wrist, your hand small compared to his own. You tugged him over to the window and gazed out at the city lights. Your apartment building was located on the edges of downtown; the windows provided a view of the skyscrapers on the other side of the city all the way down to the harbor. Instead of looking out, however, Connor turned his gaze to where your hand was still clamped around his wrist.

Just as his face started growing uncomfortably warm, you let go and turned away. With a jerk of your chin, Connor followed you down the hall. You stopped in front of a ratty door, no different from the other ratty doors in the hallway. The sound of scrabbling claws and excited yips reached Connor's ears, drawing a smile from him.

"Be careful," you warned, "He jumps." With a flourish, you opened the door and stepped inside, Connor following close behind. Cooper raced around the living room, barking excitedly. He jumped up first on you before turning to the newcomer. Impulsively, Connor dropped to his knees and let Cooper jump up on him. Cooper licked every inch of skin he could find on Connor. He almost felt like laughing with this dog in his lap. _Software instability._

"He likes you," you remarked. Your belt was slung over your shoulder and your badge was shining as you put it around your neck. Connor looked up with a smile. He felt his smile fade into something softer as he watched you lean against the wall with an amused smirk. His thirium pump was beating fast again. A quick search came up with several different causes but none of them were accurate. His self-scan was showing that all his systems were in working order.

"We should get back to the lieutenant," Connor said, standing up. Cooper sat at his feet, one ear flopped over, and stared up at him with those big brown eyes. As cute as the dog was, they had a mission to complete. This detour already took up too much time.

"I'm sure Connor will come visit again, Cooper," you cooed as you squatted down to pet your dog. You looked up at him and winked. Connor felt that warm sensation in his face again. No searches turned up any cause for that but… blushing was a very common human quirk. He'd seen you do it. It was common with embarrassment and infatuation. The bit about infatuation stuck in his head.

As you two made the trip back down, you turned and asked, "Would you be interested in coming back? You're welcome anytime." Connor hesitated. There was the mission to consider; he had to be ready at a moment's notice to go out into the field.

Despite his thoughts, he heard himself say, "I would love to." Your smile made his stomach feel strange. Connor thought over the definition of infatuation. If that's what it was, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to mind. In fact, he found that he was eagerly anticipating working with you.


	2. Snow

The snow drifted gently around you as you walked up to the station. "Morning, kid," Hank called as you approached. "How was the bus ride?"

"Cold," you managed. The bus, while heated, didn't manage to chase away the chill from your walk from your place to the bus stop. The walk from your stop to the station was even colder with your boots sinking into the dirty slush that lined the streets. Hank held the door open for you and you practically ran inside, burrowing your face in your scarf. As you passed the doors to the office, you stamped your boots on the carpet, knocking the snow off of them.

"Morning, Reed," you said as you passed his desk.

"Morning, Frosty. Cold bus ride?" he mockingly asked. You rolled your eyes and made it to your desk. As you started shedding your outer layers, starting with your beanie, Connor made his way over to your desk. He greeted you with a grin that you returned. You unwrapped your scarf and shook it out, watching the melting snowflakes fall off.

"Good morning, detective," he said cheerfully. It was no surprise that he was there earlier than you. You got there after most everybody else, save for the lieutenant. "How has your morning been?" You shucked off your coat and tossed it on your desk. Finally free of your outer layers, you sighed and put your hands on your hips.

"It's been snowy, Connor. It's been very snowy," you said with a smile. You sat down in your chair and leaned back to get a better look at the android. You have no idea if they based his model design off of someone or just mashed together attractive features but, damn, did those techs at CyberLife do a good job. You gazed into his brown eyes and asked, "How about you?"

"I've been just fine. What new cases do you have?" he asked. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Reed shoot you a look. He didn't like that you were such good friends with Connor. Of course, he didn't like anything to do with Connor in the first place. He griped to you about some comment Connor made about their "bromance." You laughed when you heard the story, only making Reed angrier. Despite neither of them liking each other, you'd maintained your friendships with both of them. You knew that Reed was just scared of being replaced, both in terms of his job security and his friendships that he'd built over the course of several years. The longer Connor leaned on your desk and you two made friendly conversation, the more intensely Reed glared at you two.

"Alright folks, gather round!" the captain shouted. Saved by the bell. You stood and walked over, completely leaving Connor in the dust. He was quick to catch up, though. Once the detectives had gotten into a clump around the captain, he held up his data pad. "New case for everyone. Major crimes bounced this one over to us because of our success rate with android perps. Wrap it up quick. Whole city's watching." As everyone broke away to get started on the case, you slugged Connor in the arm good-naturedly.

"Look at you," you crowed, "Getting us the best rates in the city." Connor smiled at you and chuckled. Back when he was still a machine, he wouldn't have done either of those things. When he first came to you, he was cold and robotic, the way an android should've been. Now you couldn't imagine a person more full of life. It drew you to him almost like a magnet. Everything about him seemed so human despite the spinning LED on his temple. You once asked him why he never took it off. He hadn't given you a straight answer; you felt as though he didn't really know himself.

"Let's get us another perp, alright?" you asked, plopping down in your chair. You watched Connor out of the corner of your eye as he took his seat a few desks away from yours. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to look down at your data pad and get focused. The case was a tricky one.

No fingerprints, no blue blood. The only reason they knew it was an android was because of puzzling clues left in perfect handwriting that no human could achieve. They were written in an odd code of lines. Some straight up and down, some at ninety degree angles, some every way in between. You got up and pulled a whiteboard into the center of the office. With painstaking care, you redrew the symbols, different ones left in different orders at different crime scenes.

"Any idea what it means?" Reed asked, coming to stand beside you. You shrugged and huffed.

"Could mean anything. But that's a good place to start," you said.

"A better place to start," Hank interrupted, staring down at his data pad, "is a new crime scene. Let's roll out, kids." He reached down and thumped Connor on the back of the head when he didn't immediately move. He pointed to you and Reed and gestured to the exit. With a dramatic sigh, you started to put on all of your outer layers. "C'mon, kid, we're waiting on you!" Hank called as you struggled to untangle your scarf. You ambled over, trying to unwind the wool, and jerked back in surprise when another pair of hands took it away from you.

"Let me help, detective," Connor said. His fingers untangled it with ease and he leaned close to wrap it around your neck. You could feel that his fingers weren't warm but they certainly drove away the chill from the open door you two were standing in front of. Hank let out a grumble behind you two and you were suddenly aware of how close you were standing. You stepped back as a blush slowly spread over your cheeks. As you climbed in the back of Hank's car, you couldn't help but feel a little grateful for the snow.

—-

The crime scene was located near your apartment building. Too close for Connor's liking. He'd only been once but he'd never forget it. The whole place had smelled like you. Your cat had twirled around his legs, leaving cat hair all over his pants but he couldn't bring himself to mind. It was meant to be a short trip, just grabbing a new change of clothes when you spilled hot chocolate on your shirt, but then Connor had gotten distracted by the volumes upon volumes of books you had in your apartment. He'd been aware of the existence of paper bound books but he'd never seen so many in such a small space.

" _I go to antique stores and buy whatever I can find. I have a set of Harry Potter books that's probably worth five grand,"_ you chuckled when he asked. You never answered the question as to why you bought so many books. Maybe it had to do with your never-ending appetite for knowledge. Every case you received you solved with gusto, taking in whatever you could learn along the way, even if it was something as small as an insight into a criminal's mind. Connor admired that about you. He admired you more than he probably should have. He stared at you as the snow fell softly around you, landing on your beanie and dusting the tops of your shoulders.

"Does it bother you that this is so close to your apartment?" Connor asked. You shrugged and blew into your hands. The entire car ride over, you'd been rubbing your hands together to warm them up. He was tempted to grab them in his own even though he could offer you nothing in terms of warmth.

"Crime happens where it happens, y'know? No use in worrying about what I can't change," you answered as you yanked open the front door. Connor detected that the inside was 75 degrees; it was definitely enough to warm you up. He'd noticed that it was a little quirk about you. You were always cold. Even in the office, you were always bundled in a cardigan or a sweatshirt. You warmed your hands around cups of hot chocolate even in the middle of the summer. It was… cute. Yeah, Connor decided, it was cute.

"More symbols!" you called from the kitchen. Hank went to go check it out but Connor stayed in the living room. He trusted you could take pictures and he could review them when there were less people around. He made his way down the hall, noticing damp footprints as he went. Size nine in women's. The prints belonged to a pair of heavy winter boots from a limited, expensive line. That would certainly narrow it down.

In the back bedroom, a window was cracked, letting the bitter winter air inside. The prints only led up to the house, suggesting at first glance that the culprit was still inside. However, the prints looked muddled and deep. The android probably stepped in their previously made tracks to avoid that. The outline of a person appeared in front of Connor's eyes. They crept in the window and made for the living room. They backtracked to the second bedroom, trashed the room, and left out the same window. Bloodstains in the living room showed that's where the victim was stabbed.

"Detectives," Connor said as he entered the kitchen where the body was. "How far have we gotten on the body?" You and Reed stood over the woman that lay motionless on the ground.

"It's probably the house's owner, Giselle Middleton. Gotta wait for fingerprints though," Reed said. Connor shook his head and knelt down. He dipped two of his fingers into the blood and gently placed them in his mouth. Reed made a comment under his breath. You retaliated by shoving him lightly. Connor looked up in alarm while his system ran the results. A flush was creeping over your cheeks, one that was different from the redness brought on by the cold. You gave Reed a pointed look and reminded him that this was a crime scene but he only smirked in response. Connor was about to ask what was so funny when the results came in.

"You're correct about her identity. She's the homeowner. Also listed on the lease," Connor added as he accessed the information, "is a PM700. One of our own, actually. Officer Carroway." You sighed a little bit. Connor empathized with your dismay. It was going to be hard for Officer Carroway to find out her roommate was murdered, especially since she couldn't work the case with you all.

"Poor Madison," you sighed. You trudged into another part of the house to examine the scene further. As soon as you were gone, the atmosphere grew tense. Connor and Reed were never left alone together if anyone could help it; it was a sign of trust that you left them to their own devices. Reed gruffly asked if Connor had done his reconstruction. He told his fellow detective what he'd found which made his scowl deepen.

"It's so weird that-"

"Hey! Is anything missing up there?" you called from the back room. Connor and Reed looked at each other before turning to where they could hear your voice. When you emerged from the hallway, your brow was furrowed. You gestured back to where you just came from. "I think the android was looking for something," you clarified.

"Was there anything missing from the other crime scenes?" Connor accessed the files from the previous scenes. Anything that was misplaced or knocked over was attributed to the struggle between the victim and the culprit; he even had his reconstructions to back it up. Was… was he _wrong?_ If he was wrong, then something in his programming had stopped working. He was a prototype model after all. It wasn't that out of the question for him to malfunction but the thought made him feel cold. His thoughts were interrupted by your hand on his shoulder. "Connor, you okay?"

"I-I don't know if these are robberies. Nothing was missing from the other crime scenes and-"

"Slow down, tin can," Reed said, putting a hand up to stop him. Connor abruptly cut off and stared at Reed. Reed's eyes bored into his own before he let out a long sigh. You hadn't removed your hand from Connor's shoulder. "Everything's fine. We'll review the evidence back at the precinct and we'll figure it out," Reed said. Connor stared back before slowly nodding. He felt his shoulders start to loosen. Of course. What he'd said was correct. The evidence would just have to be reviewed before any concrete conclusion could be drawn. As Reed passed him, he hesitantly patted him on the shoulder. Your hand left him as well and Connor felt even colder than he had before.

Connor followed after one last glance at the body and headed out into the snow. You were leaning against Hank's car, rubbing your hands together and blowing into them. It was a comical sight, if he was perfectly honest. Between your beanie pulled down over your head and your scarf pulled up around your ears, you looked almost like a turtle coming out of its shell. When Connor had held your scarf in his hands, he'd noticed that it was fraying at the edges. It had been well-loved obviously. He briefly wondered if you would appreciate getting a new one. Christmas was drawing closer, after all.

"How are we gonna tell Madison?" you asked as he approached, using Officer Carroway's first name. Connor leaned up against the car next to you. He had the urge to put his arm around you and draw you closer. "I mean," you continued, "are we just gonna pull her out of work? Fowler will let her go home… well, not home, I guess. Oh god, we're gonna have to interview her." You sighed and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"If… if you feel as though you cannot do it, I will interview her," Connor said slowly. He didn't know if extending his help was the right decision but he wanted to let you know you weren't alone in your dismay. With a sigh, you shook your head and pulled your scarf up higher, pressing it close to your face. You wrapped it above your nose, right under your eyes, and stared out into the falling snow. Connor wished for nothing more than to see inside your mind and know what you were thinking.

"I can do it," you said, your voice muffled by your scarf. You didn't sound sure at all but Connor decided to let it drop. Silence fell in between you two, broken only by the sound of Hank talking with the crime scene techs nearby. The snow landed in soft little flakes on you, slowly collecting in a pile on your beanie. Connor reached up and brushed it away. The gesture felt almost tender. You looked up at him and grinned before turning your gaze up to the cloudy sky.

"Alright, kids. Let's go back to the station," Hank said, thumping the top of his car as he strode over. Connor was quick to reach behind you and open your door. You gave him a thanks but remained quiet and thoughtful.

The first thing to do when you all got back to the station was to inform Officer Carroway of what had happened. As you all entered the office, Connor laid a gentle hand on your back. You looked towards him with a bleak expression. Slowly, you reached up and pulled your beanie off, twisting it in your hands. You nodded without saying anything and headed towards your desk. After removing all your outer layers for the second time that day, you walked over to the opposite side of the room where the officers' desks were located.

Officer Carroway looked up, eager to please and ready to do whatever task you assigned to her. You spoke gently with a hand on her shoulder. After a few words, you gestured to the interrogation room and motioned for Connor to follow. You closed the door behind Officer Carroway and moved to join Connor in the observation room.

"Are you sure?" Connor asked as he handed you a data pad with the case information pulled up. You nodded and looked through the glass where the officer was sitting.

"It's just always rough. You'd think you'd get used to it but… it's hard every time." Connor reached out and hesitated, his hand hovering between you two. Your gaze was fixated on the android in the other room but you looked so heartbroken, as though it was your roommate that had been killed. Connor made his decision and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He waited for you to shrug him off or the like but all you did was lean into him and sigh.

"Thanks, Connor," you murmured before breaking away. The door shut behind you and Connor was alone. He'd been thinking about you a lot recently. He brought it up to Hank once; he laughed and told him that he needed to figure out a couple other things first. He was starting to understand what that meant as he watched you take a seat across from Officer Carroway.

You held her hands as she sobbed, tears streaming down her dark cheeks, after you informed her of Giselle's death. You sat there for almost thirty minutes, giving her time to grieve. Connor watched on and felt something inside him ache for her. He couldn't imagine losing Hank or you or any of his coworkers even. Alongside that, he felt an admiration for you and your compassion and your willingness to reach out and do what's right. Human emotions were… complex, to say the least.

"Now, I need to ask you," you said gently as you dragged the data pad towards you, "The android pretty thoroughly trashed Giselle's room. Is there anything in these photos that's missing or any sign that something's gone?" You flicked through the photos, leaving time for her to absorb them. When you got towards the end, she reached out a slim finger and pointed at something.

"There." You looked at it for yourself and zoomed in. Connor pulled up the photos on the console and tried to see what you were looking at.

"The dresser drawer?" you asked. Officer Carroway shook her head and pointed again.

"The black box on the ground. That's where she kept a bunch of old jewelry. Some brooches, necklaces. A couple of antique election pins too." Your gaze flicked towards where Connor was watching. He looked down to see that there was indeed a black box lying on the ground with its lid gone. His shoulders tensed and he looked back up to where you were. You nodded and set the data pad down.

"Thank you so much, Madison. We'll get you a place to stay while everything gets settled," you said with such softness. She nodded and the tears started flowing again. You rubbed her back once, twice, three times and exited the room.

Connor met you in the hall but you didn't stop to say anything. You just walked back to your desk and flung yourself into your chair. Connor watched you, examining your movements and expressions. You stared at the whiteboard as though the code on it personally offended you. You were agitated and impatient.

"Detective, how about we get some lunch? I can order from that Thai place you like," Connor asked. For a moment, you placed a hand over your eyes, gathering yourself.

"What time is it, even?" you murmured.

"It's almost noon," Connor responded immediately even though you were in the process of tugging your sleeve up to check your watch. You stared down at your wrist and froze. "Detective?" You didn't respond. Something about the time perturbed you. It had only been a few hours since you arrived at work; perhaps the quickness of the events of the day unnerved you.

"Oh my god," you mumbled. You shot up and practically ran over to the whiteboard.

"What's going on?" Connor asked, following right behind you. You just traced a finger over the symbols on the board before writing numbers underneath. Connor watched as you did this with every symbol from each crime scene. It clicked in his head when you were halfway through. You drew a '3' underneath a set of lines that met at a right angle. "They're clock hands," he breathed. "They're telling a time."

"It's a code. It's not binary because that'd be ones and zeros. Maybe it's alphanumeric?" you asked, sounding out of breath with excitement. Connor snatched up another marker and wrote the corresponding letters underneath. It was almost funny to look at his perfect CyberLife handwriting next to your messy scrawls. You two finished at the same time and backed up to view your handiwork.

Unfortunately, your handiwork meant next to nothing. The words didn't make sense.

AICHEL AEGJ

CAGEJ

DEKEEIE

"This… this is nonsense," Connor stated as you two stared at it. He ran it through several more decoding processes but he came up empty. It didn't make sense in any other code either. You shook your head and gripped his wrist. At some point, you two had garnered the attention of everyone in your vicinity with your code-breaking ordeal. Connor looked down to where you grasped him and felt his face grow slightly warm. He could see that people were staring. Were- were they staring at you because you were grabbing him?

"If it's alphanumeric, they only have twelve numbers to work with," you reminded him. You finally let go and stepped closer to the board. He could feel where you had held him only moment before and found that he wanted your fingers on his skin once more. _Focus, Connor,_ he reprimanded himself. "Let's take this 'A' and assume that the one they wrote is supposed to be a thirteen. That changes it to an 'M,'" you said. You rubbed out the letter with your sleeve and wrote the 'M.'

"If we're following that logic," Connor added, rubbing out the last two letters of the second word, "it makes sense if this is an 'ST' due to how common that is in the English language."

"Michel West!" you exclaimed. You scribbled over the last letter remaining and fixed it. "He's a guy we caught with a bunch of stolen goods!" Following that path of logic, you two fixed the remaining letters.

CADET. A renowned thief that the DPD recently locked away. Some of the stolen goods would've ended up with him.

DEVEERE. A pawn shop downtown. Considering how recent the robbery was, Giselle's stolen jewelry might've ended up there. It was a place to start anyways.

Connor examined you once more as you redressed, preparing to head out into the winter day. You moved with a renewed energy and you looked like you were lit from within. You both hurried over to the door, calling for the lieutenant as you went. Connor stopped to hold the door open for you with a smile.

"Shall we, detective?"

Deveere's was a shady place with a shady reputation. If you wanted something gone fast, this was the place to drop it. The storefront was blocked with black tarps with a sign that said "ENTRANCE ON THE ALLEY." You were immediately on guard as you headed into the dim alley. The snowfall hadn't ceased but there were footprints to let you know that you weren't the only ones interested in the store.

"Detective," Connor said with a warning note in his voice. He pointed down at the footprints. You didn't notice anything remarkable about them but he did. They must be a match for the ones at the crime scene. You nodded and looked around for the set that returned to the street. They weren't there. You must've caught the perp right as they were hawking the jewelry.

"I'll stay here. You two head inside," Hank said, resting a hand on his gun. You turned and headed inside. The tall walls of the alley made you feel suffocated and the cluttered store didn't do anything to assuage your nerves.

You always felt like this when you were on the hunt for someone. Your heart pounded and your feet wanted to run, to feel that release of pent-up energy. You bounced slightly on the balls of your feet as you held the door open for Connor as though it would help alleviate your tension.

The inside of the store smelled musty and slightly of cigarettes. The walls were an ugly green and the tiled floor showed years of wear and tear. A man sat behind a wall of bulletproof glass with a small slot for money and items to go through. You sent Connor off to pretend to examine some merchandise, lest the perp or the owner see his conspicuous CyberLife garb.

A woman stood at the counter, quietly arguing with the owner. You drifted closer, pretending to be absorbed in your phone, and listened on. When you looked down, you could see that she had a bloodstain on one of her boots. Your stomach twisted unpleasantly. _She couldn't even bother to wash off?_

"Listen, I just need to get rid of it."

"Lady, I can't take stolen goods."

"Who says it's stolen?" she asked, a hint of desperation slipping into her voice. "Besides, isn't that what you do here?"

"Yeah, but not for androids. Not only will the cops be on my ass but so will CyberLife. Why is it so important to get rid of?" The woman fidgeted before snatching back the necklace she'd been holding out. She snapped back that she didn't need the money anyway and turned in a huff. She ran smack into you.

"Watch it!" she growled. As she exited, you ran after her. You felt Connor close on your tail. You reached a hand out and grabbed her bicep, tugging her backwards as you emerged onto the alley. The snow was falling harder now; it was landing in large tufts rather than small flakes.

"Detroit Police. I'm Detective-" You were cut off by the woman backhanding you and grabbing your scarf in two calculated movements. She yanked you around to face Connor and held you to her chest. Her hands pulled your scarf taut and cut off your breathing. Connor immediately had his gun out but he had no other option than to point it at your chest.

"I didn't mean to kill those people!" she cried. "I just… I just needed the money and- and no one was supposed to get hurt but they found me and fought me. If they just called the cops, I would've gone! They fought me!" The woman's voice had risen to a shout but the ringing that had started in your ears was drowning everything else out. You gasped but weren't able to draw air. Your knees were growing weak and your vision was growing cloudy but you were still able to see Connor lower his weapon and speak to the woman. He looked grim but he made no move to free you. Honestly, you were a little offended.

" _Oof!"_ The woman lost her grip on you and you both fell forwards. Your chin hit the concrete and you rolled over, coughing and dazed. When you angled your head up, you could see the lieutenant cuffing the woman on the floor and yanking her up. You let your head fall back hard to continue coughing. Pain blossomed on the back of your skull and it joined in throbbing with your chin.

Connor appeared above you, calling your name. You paused. He almost never called you by your name. What if you actually died and had gone to heaven? It wouldn't surprise you that Connor was there with you. Your idea of heaven had included him for a long time. It was a little startling at how natural it felt to have affection for him. It had stopped being something remarkable a long time ago; you no longer thought about it consciously. Every time he touched you, you felt a sense of belonging, and this time was no different.

"Sit up. Are you okay?" Connor's hand cupped your cheek and he turned you to face him. Without taking any time to think, you wrapped your arms around him and drew him in, burying your face in his neck. He wrapped you up tight, practically pulling you up into his lap. You remained entwined as the snow drifted down around you. The cold air nipped at your neck and collarbones, having loosened your scarf, but you felt warm in Connor's embrace.

Slowly, slowly, you pulled back but hovered so close to him that your noses brushed. His breath intermingled with yours. His fingers twitched at your waist. Everything felt so close, so intimate. You raised a hand to his cheek and brushed across his cheekbone.

"Aw, c'mon, you two. We have better things to do!" Hank called. You jerked back, broken out of your stupor. You and Connor unceremoniously fell backwards and scrambled up on your own. A blush was spreading across your cheeks at having that moment witnessed by someone else. You hopped in the front seat without looking back. Hank slammed his door and grumbled something about "stupid kids." Your face burned at that comment and you raised your scarf to cover your cheeks.

The drive to the station was silent except for the rumble of the engine and the wind whistling past the car. When you arrived, you bolted out of the car and over to the squad car with the thief. You yanked her out and walked her into interrogation, not making eye contact with Connor as he held the door open for you.

"Where's the fire?" Reed asked as you breezed past him to reach your desk.

"Psh, nothing. Why- why do you ask?" you asked, throwing your coat down, badly feigning being casual. Reed cocked an eyebrow and came closer. He sat on your desk as you plopped into your chair and raked a hand through your hair. Suddenly, his gaze veered above your head and he smirked. When you turned, Connor was standing halfway in between his desk and yours. He nodded and said, "Detective. Gavin," before he turned and marched back to his desk. You saw that his cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed with blue.

"What happened with you and the tin can?" Reed laughed. Everyone in the vicinity had heard him and were now leaning forward with the hope of catching some office gossip. You buried your face in your hands.

"Nothing happened, Gavin," you mumbled.

"They were making goo-goo eyes at each other after they caught the perp," Hank butted in as he leaned back in his chair. "Even held each other and everything. I thought they were gonna make out right then and there."

"Oh my god," you said, sinking down and plonking your head on your desk. You could just about die from embarrassment. Not that you were embarrassed about liking Connor; that wasn't the case at all. Everyone knowing, however, was a different story. You felt like a schoolgirl on the playground being teased. Plus, if Fowler found out, he might make you work in different divisions. You weren't sure on that; you'd have to check the handbook.

"I didn't know androids could blush," Reed said above you, "Looks like you learn something new every day." With one last laugh, he sauntered back to his own desk. You risked a peek to look at Connor. Even though he was diligently working, he was blushing as fiercely as you were. It was even more obvious because of the blue color of his blush.

You finally straightened up and brought your data pad to life, ready to throw yourself into your paperwork. Maybe if you worked hard enough, the office would forget this happened.

The office did not forget what happened. To celebrate the closing of the case, Hank invited everyone out for drinks, including Connor. He couldn't drink but he was part of the team and he enjoyed the feeling of hanging out with his friends. Someone had to call them all cabs at the end of the night after all.

"Tell your lover to hurry up. We don't have all night," Hank said, gesturing to you. At the term 'lover,' Connor felt his face heat up. He certainly didn't need a repeat of a few hours ago when he couldn't get his thirium pump to stop going so fast. He simply nodded at Hank and went to fetch you.

"Detective, everyone's heading out. Would you like to join?" Your brow was knitted together as you stared down at your data pad. Connor put a hand on your shoulder and called your name. You reached up and put your hand on his own, answering with a distracted hum. Instinctively, Connor laced his fingers with your own and called your name once more. You finally looked up.

"Oh, sorry, Connor. I was distracted. I'm ready, let me just get my coat on." You said all of this without letting go of his hand. When you noticed, you flinched back.

"Detective-" he started.

"I'll, uh, meet you out at the car." Connor didn't move though. He stood by your desk while you gathered your things. He was thinking of ways to ask you what he really wanted to know. He was desperate to know if you felt the same things he did. It was frightening to experience alone, this affection. Connor made it all the way outside before saying anything. He caught your arm, not strongly enough to stop you, but you turned anyways.

"I like you. A lot. So much that… that it scares me sometimes. I just want to know if you feel the same way," Connor said. He felt a little breathless despite standing still. You gazed up at him and, for a moment, he thought you were simply going to tell him no and get in the car with Hank. However, your answer took him by complete surprise.

"Can I kiss you?" He hadn't expected you to ask with such clarity. You met his eyes unflinchingly. Connor smiled a bit. Of course you would ask him though; your boldness had drawn him to you in the first place. Instead of responding, he leaned in and met your lips with his own. Your lips were warm and soft. Your fingers, where they rested on his cheek, sent shivers down his spine.

The moment was broken by the whoops, cheers, and catcalls of a group of people. The two of you broke apart to see the entire force crowded around Hank's car, obviously waiting for you two. Connor even caught Officer Chen pass a twenty dollar bill over to Gavin. Feeling bolder than ever, Connor wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew you close.

"I thought we were getting drinks," he called to the force.

"This was more entertaining!" Gavin shouted. "But now that you mention it… I could go for a beer. Let's roll out!" More cheers. You laughed and started towards the group. Before you could get very far, Connor grasped your hand and spun you back around. He kissed you once more and felt your smile against his lips. Despite the snow drifting down around you two, he'd never felt more warm.


	3. Lost

You walked into the precinct with stiff muscles and a strong ache in your back. On the way to your desk, you passed Gavin who _definitely_ noticed your difficulty with walking.

"For your sake, I hope that last night was a hot one and that's why you're walkin' funny," he called to you. You tossed your coat down and set your coffee on your desk. With a smile that barely covered your pain, you turned to him.

"Oh, yeah, Gavin. I got real hot and heavy with a stranger in that car last night. Connor was there the whole time. It wasn't as awkward as you'd think." Your words were dripping with sarcasm and it wasn't lost on Gavin. He laughed as you sank down in your chair, massaging a kink in your neck.

Technically, you didn't have to come in, not while you were on a stakeout. Twelve hour shifts for you and Hank with Connor standing watch the whole time. You two periodically brought him thirium along with your own food. Other than that, he was completely fine sitting in a car for twenty four hours a day. Last night, he even encouraged you to grab a quick nap during your watch, promising he'd wake you if anything happened. The last thing you remembered before drifting off was him adjusting your scarf so it covered your nose, just the way you liked. The ghost of his touch sent tingles down your spine.

"What about you, Gavin?" you asked, desperate to distract yourself from your own aching heart. "Any guy strike your fancy recently?" He snorted and leaned back in his chair. You two had spent a few nights at the bar together, resulting in going back to Gavin's place, ordering takeout, and bitching about your love lives. You'd learned that, even though he'd had a few one night stands, he wasn't really on the market for a relationship. _The job comes first,_ he said. That rang a little too true with you.

"Not likely," he grumbled, "I have standards and Jimmy's ain't it." You chuckled and turned back to your workstation. You let your head fall onto your desk, resting for a moment. You were really falling hard for that damn android. Ever since the revolution, you'd seen more and more humans that were dating androids but you'd never seen anything serious come of it. The social stigma was still too much. Part of you embraced that as a reason to keep your distance. The other part wanted you to rebel against that notion. Either way, it didn't matter because you were positive Connor didn't have feelings for you.

"Oh, good, you're here." You slowly raised your head up to see Fowler standing over you. His expression was angry but, hey, Fowler was always angry. "There's another crime scene waiting for you. We're pulling Connor from the stakeout so he can go investigate with you. Get on it," he added when you made no move to get up. With a heavy sigh, you stood and grabbed your coat.

"Not even five minutes rest," Gavin mocked with a pout. You flipped him off but winked after the gesture. He waved back to you as you moseyed out the door. The cab ride to the crime scene was quick thankfully. You weren't sure how much energy you had to keep you going. The sky was dreary as you stepped out of the cab and you glanced up, hoping it wouldn't rain. If everything went smoothly here, you could be back home and curled up with your cats in an hour. That being said, Connor wasn't even there yet and who knows how long it'd take him to get there.

"Detective, the body's in the kitchen," a crime scene tech told you as you walked up the front steps. You held your hand out and they passed over some evidence bags and a pair of gloves. The house was dark and gloomy when you stepped inside. The weak light that filtered in through the windows did little to illuminate your surroundings. What you could see was a destroyed kitchen and a dead android. It was gruesome; her chest was torn open and her thirium pump had been removed.

You followed the drips of blue blood to the back door where… Aha. You knelt and scooped up three little crystals. Red Ice. More and more users had been attacking androids to get their thirium. Buying it would cause suspicion, especially if they didn't live with an android, and there were no longer willing donors for it. It was unfortunate.

"Detective," Connor said as he approached. You smiled and greeted him, tucking the evidence into your coat pocket.

"How's it been in the last half hour since I've seen you?" you joked.

"Good. Although the death of another android is… is unpleasant," he said with a slight grimace. As usual, he took your jokes seriously. You were getting him accustomed to the sarcasm, however, during your late night talks on the stakeout. You have no idea what he and Hank talked about but you and Connor talked about everything. He even showed you how to do a cool coin trick and you practiced it endlessly at home. It was one of those contributing factors to your ever-growing crush on him.

Connor paced around the kitchen, no doubt piecing together the events that had taken place. His brow was furrowed and he rubbed his hands together as he walked around. You'd noticed his quirks even before he'd become deviant. Strange for CyberLife to program him to be so human.

"The murderer was a Red Ice user," you announced. Connor whirled around to you, his LED blinking yellow.

"And how can you tell that?" he asked. You gave a whimsical shrug and winked.

"Maybe I'm psychic!" Connor simply stared at you for a moment. You raised an eyebrow and that's when he caught on. A small smile broke out across his face. Your stomach twisted at making him smile. You'd only ever made him full-on laugh once and you still hadn't recovered from it. "Or maybe there was Red Ice on the floor from the perp dropping it," you said, finally revealing the evidence you'd stashed away. Connor held out his hand and you gave it to him, fingers brushing as you did so. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as it tried to decide whether to linger or to jerk back. You chose neither and stuffed your hand in your pocket. Connor's LED spun as he analyzed the contents of the bag. Three small crystals wasn't much to go on but it certainly didn't belong to the android.

"Think it could be our guy?"

"I don't know. It's certainly a possibility." You snapped off your latex gloves and tossed them in a nearby trash can. Your work here was done. Connor could finish processing with the techs if he wanted but there wasn't much else to do. You pulled out your phone, ready to call a cab, when Connor stopped you. His hand was light on your shoulder as though he was afraid to handle you too roughly.

"Hang on, detective. Hank just sent me a text. We should get back to the stakeout right away." _Oh great._ Just what you needed, more time in that damn car. You took a taxi back a few blocks away from your stakeout position. Little drops of water had started falling as you approached the car. Hank got out before you had a chance to get in.

"Perp finally showed up. He was covered in blood. Figured that's enough probable cause." You whipped off your coat to leave your arms free to move and tossed it in the car. You took point, casting a look over your shoulder. Connor was looking at you funny and you raised an eyebrow at him. He shook his head and you shook it off. You left your long sleeves down, finding that they provided at least a little protection from the cold and the rain.

Your boots made little noise against the pavement as you approached the run-down building. It used to be an apartment building but had since been foreclosed. Now it was a hang out for druggies. You'd been skeptical of your lead since it came from a bartender at a sketchy club but now you wanted to go back and kiss her on the mouth. Finally, your efforts on the stakeout were amounting to something.

You drew your gun from your suspenders, preferring the old-timey way of keeping your gun on you, and cracked open the door. The foyer was empty but there had been tracks left in the dust and leaves that made their way into the building. You looked back and nodded at your partners. Quietly, you all crept into the foyer. Hank turned to investigate the first floor while you and Connor headed upstairs. While you wanted to split up and get this sweep done faster, you and Connor always stuck together. The last time you two had investigated a building separately, you'd lost the perp and gotten injured.

"Clear," you called, coming back down the hallway. Connor met you at the stairwell, telling you that his side of the building was also clear. As you started up the next staircase, your thoughts wandered a bit. You were holding your flashlight underneath your gun as was protocol. Connor didn't even have a flashlight. His eyesight might be superior but you doubted that he could see perfectly in this weak, filtered light. Why didn't him or Hank carry their belts around? You knew Hank had been issued one but he just had a holster for his gun. There were more important things in that belt than just-

 _Crash!_

You felt a bolt of pain in your face as the perp crashed into you, accidentally headbutting you in the process. You both tumbled down to the next landing where you landed in a heap. They scrambled up and down the stairs before you could even gather your bearings. You felt Connor grab you and haul you up but you smacked his hands away.

"Go get them!" you shouted. He ran off and you were quick to follow. You thundered down the stairs, shouting for Hank to join you. Connor hadn't caught them already? They must also be an android if they evaded him. The perp ran right out of the building and into a car waiting for them. "Let's go!" you called, thumping on the top of the car as Hank raced towards you. You slid into the passenger seat and Hank took off after the car.

For about thirty minutes, it was a high speed chase. When you'd gotten out of Detroit, the car slowed down a lot. It even crossed your mind that maybe you were following the wrong car. But every so often you caught sight of the LED on the android in the passenger seat. It was after an hour that you decided to start making small talk.

"At what point are we out of our jurisdiction? We're in the Flint area right now," you said, pulling out your phone. The map didn't load as fast as it did while you were in the city. Your cell service was getting progressively less and less the farther away from Detroit you drove. That bothered you but, as your adrenaline rush faded, the thought drifted away from you. You unclipped your belt, kicked it underneath your seat, leaned the seat back, and stretched out your legs on the dash.

"Hey, kid, that's rude," Hank grumbled as you turned to lay on your side.

"Your car's a piece of junk anyways, old man," you griped back, thumping him on the arm. You looked up to see Connor's slight smile and you winked. Closing your eyes, you draped your coat over yourself and buried your face in your scarf. "Good night," you announced. "Wake me when things get interesting."

The rain picked up and pounded on the top of the roof. The pitter-patter of the drops lulled you into a strange place between sleeping and waking. You could feel the rumble of the engine and hear the squeak of the windshield wipers. You felt when a soft hand ran itself over your hair once, taming any stray hairs. You also felt when Hank slammed on the brakes.

You jerked forwards, your stupor broken, and sat up to see that you were still following the same car and it had stopped. It was simply idling in the middle of the highway. This had to be a trick or ambush or something. You turned your gaze out of the window and saw one of the lakes about 100 meters away. The other side of the road was a misty forest. No one was coming at you from either direction which made you feel a little better but the situation gnawed at your nerves.

"No," you said when you saw Connor move towards the door, "It could be a trick. Don't get out." He drew his hand back and nodded, not taking his gaze away from the car in front of you. Suddenly the car peeled out and shot forwards, disappearing around a curve. Hank cursed and raced after them. You hastily yanked the seat up, clutching at the door to stabilize yourself as you went around bend after bend in the road.

After one of these bends, you saw that the car had pulled over and the perps were getting out. Your heart jumped at the thought of a chase on foot. While your boots were good for muffling sound, they weren't exactly protocol for running through the woods. At least with Connor on your side, the chase would be quick.

The car stopped and you all bolted out and down the hill into the forest. At first the perps were easy to chase, crashing and stomping through all the underbrush, but at some point the noises stopped. You stopped as well, looking around, trying to control your panting. Somewhere along the way, you'd lost Connor and Hank as well as the criminals. You turned around only to find a never ending stretch of trees. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn't have gone that far, right?

"Connor?" you shouted. "Hank?" Your voice was dampened by the trees and it didn't carry very far. You looked around, trying to gain some sense of direction. Straining your ears, you caught the very faint sound of someone treading over the pine needle covered ground. "Connor? Hank?" you called again as you raced towards the sound.

You went around a tree and almost ran right into Hank. He placed two steadying hands on your shoulders. Good news, you found Hank. Bad news, you lost the three other people you were out here with. Worst news, you lost the road.

"Whoa, kid. Where's Connor?" he asked. You shrugged helplessly. Panic was starting to well up within you. You weren't so afraid of the criminals as their style seemed to be geared towards running away; you were afraid of not finding Connor and being stuck without him. Not only were his senses and skills superior to yours but you just wanted him around to be sure he was safe.

"Detective!" Your head whipped around but the sound didn't seem to come from any particular direction. "Lieutenant!" Hank headed off and you followed, eager to not be left behind. After passing by a few trees, you caught the sight of the glow of Connor's CyberLife issued jacket. You broke into a jog and caught up to him, stopping just short. Your hand hovered in between you but you quickly let it drop. "Are you both alright?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Did you find the perps?" Connor shook his head.

"I also seem to have lost the road," he added. "My GPS doesn't work this far away from the city center." You sighed and looked around in defeat. Great. Things just couldn't get any worse. Of course, you were immediately proven wrong as a gentle rain started to fall. It took only minutes before the rain was pounding down on you, soaking you to your bones.

"Aw, c'mon kid, it's not that bad," Hank said when you voiced your displeasure. The sun was setting and the air was becoming increasingly chilly.

"Okay, I know you two have a weird thing about not using umbrellas but I like them," you snarled as you stalked over to a tree. The drops underneath the boughs were fatter and hit harder but they came less frequently. You rubbed your hands along your arms to warm yourself up. You'd left your jacket in the car when you ran after the criminals. You leaned back against the tree and sighed, noticing the puff of steam that came from your mouth.

"Here, detective," Connor said as he approached you. He slid off his jacket and it took everything in you to not react. "I don't feel cold. You can have it," he said as he held it out to you. You swallowed thickly as you took it and quickly shrugged it on. Connor wasn't a broad guy by any means but he still managed to be bigger than you. The fabric hung past your fingertips and enveloped you in warmth. You pulled it close to your figure and buried your nose in it. It smelled of laundry detergent but nothing else. Connor wouldn't have a scent at all, you supposed, being an android and all.

"Thanks, Connor," you said with a soft smile. He smiled back before calling Hank over to discuss the situation.

Connor looked at you wearing his jacket and felt his cheeks heat up. He quickly turned away to call Hank over. Any longer and he just might pull you close and never let go. There were things that needed to be done however and he couldn't leave his thoughts lingering on you for too long.

"When the rain stops, I can try to track our steps and find the road."

"Why can't we just do it now?" you asked. He turned back to see you bundled up in his jacket, the collar hiked up by your cheeks. You met his eyes unflinchingly and stared him down. Part of what made him so enamored with you was how bold you were. When you had first met, you weren't rude but you never backed down. Nothing seemed to shake you, not criminals or rebelling androids or being held at gunpoint. That happened once and Connor swore to himself that it would never happen again.

"I would prefer to not get soaked. Also, the rain makes it difficult to see the tracks," Connor continued, looking out at the landscape. The rain was starting to soak the tree branches above them; they'd have to find a better place to stay until the rain passed. He turned to scan the forest for suitable trees. After a few moments of looking, he saw a tree with thick, leafy branches that stretched up into the sky. Connor leaned over and reached out his hand for you to grab. He hauled you up from leaning against the tree.

"That tree over there," Connor said as he pointed, "is much more suitable for shelter." You let your hand slip from his as you ambled over, ducking your head against the rain. He wanted to hold on just a little longer but, as Hank had pointed out when he'd asked, he had no evidence that you returned his feelings. All he had was fleeting moments where some emotion crossed your face but it was always gone too quickly to identify.

"Did anybody look at the weather forecast before we left?" you asked, plopping down on the dry ground underneath the tree.

"I didn't," Hank grumbled as he sat down across from you.

"The rain will likely last through the night," Connor said. He'd seen the forecast for Detroit but the storm would likely move north with the way the winds blew that week. "If it doesn't, then that's better for us." You nodded at that. When the rain only started pounding down harder, you groaned dramatically.

"It could be worse, kid," Hank said. You groaned louder and longer and leaned back against the tree. Connor felt himself smirk at your overdramatic antics. Sometimes your refusal to take things seriously got to him a bit, but now he was grateful for it. You made the space under the tree feel lighter. "When was the last time you ate?" Hank asked you. You shrugged and looked up in thought.

"Last night. I was kinda busy watching nothing, remember?" you asked, referencing your time spent with Connor on the stakeout. He quite enjoyed spending time with you on the stakeout. It made him a little disappointed to know that it was now over when you all got back to the station. Connor looked you over as you continued speaking. "Besides, there's something more important here." Your gaze fell on Connor. "When was the last time we brought you thirium?"

"Two nights ago," he answered immediately. Your shoulders tensed up and Hank straightened up. Connor was still a prototype with kinks in his machinery still being worked out. One of those kinks was that his body had no way of keeping thirium circulating around his body for more than approximately four days. You and Hank both helped him with it on the stakeout and he had many bags of it back at Hank's house. None of you kept it in the car.

"If the rain doesn't let up by tomorrow, we might have to pick a direction and go," you said grimly.

"Detective-"

"You're not running out of thirium out here, Connor. End of discussion," you bit out. Your heart rate had increased and your cheeks were starting to flush. Your heart rate had spiked in a way that was consistent with fear. While he was touched that you were scared for him, you didn't need to be. It was unlikely that you were going to spend more than one night in the wilderness. As he thought that however, he began to feel an inkling of anxiety. You would all be out of there by morning… right?

Waiting for the rain to quit turned out to be boring. You dozed against the tree, jerking up every so often as you fought to stay awake. Connor and Hank made quiet conversation that had sizeable lulls in between topics. Night fell quickly even though, by Connor's internal clock, it was only seven.

"Fuck this," Hank groaned as he stood and stretched. "I'll get some stuff for a fire."

"You know how to make a fire, lieutenant?" Connor asked. Hank just waved him off and grumbled something before dashing into the rain. He heard you chuckle softly and turned to see that, while you were still slumped against the tree, you were awake and watching Hank run through the rain. Your expression was soft with fatigue as you shifted to sit up properly.

"He doesn't," you answered when you caught Connor's eye. You crossed your arms over your chest, bunching his jacket in your fingers as you tugged the sleeves down. Your gaze drifted off into the storm once more but Connor kept looking at you. The color of your eyes was dulled by the shadows but Connor could clearly tell that they were still beautiful.

You'd become the third member of their ragtag team before Connor had turned deviant. You'd always treated him like an equal capable of thoughts and feelings even when he hadn't been. It was part of what endeared you to him.

"Connor?" you asked hesitantly. He broke out of his thoughts and met your gaze. "Do you give off body heat?"

"Is that your way of asking to cuddle?" he asked. He wasn't one to joke but he thought about how you would respond and went with that option. You stared at him for a moment before laughing. Your laugh was beautiful. With a jerk of your chin, you opened your arms. Connor scooted over and you nestled your head under his chin and wrapped your arms around him. He tentatively slid his hands around your waist, under his jacket, and held on tighter when you wiggled closer to him.

"Well, you don't give off much body heat," you mumbled. He felt the vibrations of your voice on his skin. "You're pretty good at this cuddling thing though." Connor chuckled and ran his hand up along your back. You arched into his touch. How long you sat like that you probably couldn't tell but Connor savored every minute he could count. It was approximately 26 minutes before he heard the lieutenant crashing back through the woods and the rain. He sat up to greet his friend but you completely withdrew. Did you not want Hank to see? Connor cast you a sideways look before focusing back on Hank who entered your small shelter and brought out a bundle of dry branches from his coat.

Connor scooted forwards and helped Hank arrange them so they could easily be lit. If he noticed how close you two were sitting, he didn't say anything about it. Knowing Hank he probably didn't want to know in the first place.

"So," Connor said, sitting back on his heels. He looked up at Hank expectantly. "Are you gonna light it?"

"I thought you could," Hank said, gesturing to him.

"I'm an android, not a Swiss army knife, lieutenant," Connor snarked. Before it was able to turn into a full-fledged fight, you scooted forwards with your hands out.

"Boys, boys," you called, "I swear, do I have to do everything around here?" You reached into your back pocket and produced a lighter. When Hank asked where the hell you got it, you shrugged. "Gavin's been trying to quit smoking. I've been helping."

"Confiscating his lighter constitutes as helping?" Connor asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Absolutely," you said with a wink. The fire grew bigger and bigger as you tucked the lighter back in your pocket. You reached out and warmed your hands, rubbing them together. Connor remembered how it felt to have those hands clutch at his shirt only minutes before. He wanted to snuggle up to you again but he settled for watching you warm your hands against the fire.

The hours passed slowly but soon enough your exhaustion took over and you slumped back against the tree, finally asleep. Connor hoped that you would be able to get more than a power nap in a car or a small doze. Hank took off his coat and balled it up underneath his head as a makeshift pillow and he was out too. It was only Connor awake and he spent the time doing internal system checks and, when they all came up clear, entered standby mode. It would also help conserve what thirium he had left in his body.

"Hey, Connor." Hank was shaking his shoulder. Connor snapped out of standby mode after what felt like mere moments. Looking around, he saw that it was the next day, almost ten in the morning according to his clock. You yawned and stretched, your exhale visible in the frosty air. It was still raining.

"Damn it," Connor muttered under his breath. At some point during the night, the water had soaked down through the tree and ruined your makeshift shelter. You and Hank were soaked and shivering. Connor knew that he had to act now to save his humans and prevent damage like hypothermia and starvation. Starvation was a ways away and dehydration wasn't much of a possibility but the fact that they could happen at all made Connor nervous. He stood and made his way out into the rain.

"I'm going to find our tracks before they get washed away," he called over the din of the rain. You opened your mouth to say something but just nodded instead. It took several minutes but he eventually isolated the area where he found a lot of muddy footprints. Tracks from your boots, Hank's shoes, and a third party were limited to the same twenty-foot area. He got them separated but the scene was chaotic and the prints were muddled. His software couldn't tell some of them apart.

Connor isolated a set of footprints, your footprints, and saw that they led off to the east but ended. The rain must've washed them away or the ground was carpeted with grass and pine needles. He returned and told you and Hank what he had found. You sat up and looked over at him, eyes flicking down to his chest. He looked down and saw that his button down was completely soaked through, clinging to him and showing his chest. A strange look came across your face before your gaze drifted away. Before Connor could analyze your expression, Hank stood up.

"Let's go. No point in sittin' here while the rain washes everything away." You stood and brushed the mud off of your pants. Connor took two steps out into the rain and was struck by a sudden weariness. He stumbled to his knees. Your hands were warm where you touched his shoulder and propped him up against you.

"Connor, are you okay?" you mumbled right next to his ear. His vision started blacking out for moments at a time. He struggled to stand up and say something.

"I- I think that my thirium is running out," he muttered. The world spun around him and he stumbled over his own feet. Connor ran an internal scan and his suspicions were confirmed. His thirium level was down to the single digits. He'd run out faster than he thought he would. If he did run out, nothing drastic would happen but he would shut down. In the middle of the woods, that would prove to be a hindrance for his friends as they wouldn't leave him behind.

"C'mon, Con, let's go. Where do the footprints lead?" Hank asked as he hauled him up. He wrapped one arm around Connor's waist and started walking forwards. You slid your arm underneath Hank's to help with the burden. Connor weakly pointed where your footprints came from.

The three of you stumbled along for twenty minutes until the sound of a car reached Connor's ears. His head shot up and he tried to take a couple of excited steps. All he succeeded in was stumbling forwards and dragging you down with him. He stared at the muddy ground and tried to stand.

 **DANGER:**

 **Thirium Level: 3%**

"Hey, we're almost there. We made it this far," you said, still kneeling next to him. Connor's gaze slowly traveled up. He could see the road through the trees. You were right. He was very close to getting back into the car and getting you two to safety. That was the most important issue: making sure you were safe. With the world fading in and out in front of him, Connor stood and stumbled the last yards to the car.

He collapsed in the back of the car and you slid in next to him. He plonked his head in your lap and stared up at your concerned face. Your brows were knit together and one side of your mouth ticked down farther than the other side. You looked amazing. If Connor wasn't going to make the trip back, he was glad that the last thing he would see before his shutdown was your face.

The car didn't start on the first few tries and that brought frustrated tears to your eyes. He reached up but you grabbed his hand and laced his fingers with yours.

"You don't need to cry," he mumbled.

"I'll cry if I wanna cry," you said with a small smile. You were keeping things light for his sake. After all, you had to be feeling immense relief after you found your way back to the car.

"Next time," Connor bit out, "can we cuddle somewhere other than underneath a tree?" You threw your head back in a full-blown laugh. Your lips were soft when you kissed him on the forehead.

"Of course, Connor."

 **DANGER:**

 **Shutdown initiated**

Connor's eyes slid closed with the knowledge and the comfort that he'd wake up to you by his side.


	4. Dancing is Hard Without A Partner (I)

You stared at your reflection, analyzing every which way your body turned. You'd been working on this routine for almost a month and, even though every move was cemented in your body, you were constantly watching for improvements. A real improvement, though, would be if your partner showed up on time. You'd both agreed on six and it was half past that already. You'd kill him if he was late again.

You looked around the studio as you caught your breath. You weren't the only one in there; there were a few other people but only one couple. It was a Traci model, fully clothed, and she was ballroom dancing with her human partner. You'd dabbled in ballroom but decided that it wasn't for you. You much rather preferred the freedom and expression in other types of dance.

Setting up for another rep, you glanced at the clock and sighed. You couldn't believe Max would be so late. He'd better have a good excuse. Halfway through your routine, the android across the room screamed. Your head whipped around as you faltered in your steps. Max had arrived and he was bloody.

"Call the cops!" he shouted as he ran towards you. You sprinted towards the door, intending to lock it, when someone else burst in. An android holding a wicked looking broken pipe. The end was jagged and bloody. Her wild eyes focused on you and you stumbled back. Your heart was pounding as she advanced. She barreled into you, knocking you flat on your back. The back of your head screamed in pain but it was nothing compared to the pain you felt when the android brought her pipe down. You managed to raise a hand in defense and the blow glanced off your forearm.

All of a sudden, the android was off you. Someone else tackled her. It was the other android. They rolled over, skidding and sliding on the wooden floor. A harsh clang sounded out as the attacker dropped her pipe. With a clear goal in mind, you snatch it up, ready to hit the woman as soon as you were able. She shoved the Traci off of her and scrambled up. Instead of doing the logical thing and retreating, she charged you once more.

You lashed out with the pipe and landed a solid hit on her arm. The jagged tip scratched her arm, blue blood flowing from the wound. You were hopelessly outmatched as the android easily disarmed you. She raised the pipe over her head, ready to strike, but the wail of sirens reached her ears. With a last glare, she sprinted out the door and down the street. You were tempted to run after, if only to make sure you could tell the cops where to go, but a wheeze of your name stopped you.

"Oh my god, Max," you breathed. You rushed over and yanked up his shirt to see the wound. It was on his side and the heaving of his chest made you think she missed his lung. You hastily pressed down on it, trying to staunch the bleeding.

"Does anyone have a spare t-shirt or anything?" you asked with a tremor in your voice. Someone handed you a wad of fabric and you pressed it down, ignoring Max's flinch.

"Ow, that- that really hurts," he stammered.

"I'd rather you hurt than be dead," you snapped, warm tears spilling over onto your cheeks. You hastily wiped them away and focused on keeping pressure on Max's wound. "Did someone call an ambulance?"

"On its way," the Traci confirmed. Her LED spun yellow before returning to red. "But it looks like the cops are getting here first." You turned to see a beat up old car and two cop cruisers pull up in front of the studio. The uniformed cops took off in the direction of the android while two other people entered the studio. More tears welled up in your eyes as they drew closer.

"He… he was stabbed," you breathed, turning back to your partner. You looked up at the men. One of them was an android, you realized. He looked over your partner and nodded. His LED was yellow as the Tracis had been.

"You'll live. The puncture wound missed any vital organs. The ambulance is only thirty seconds away." You nodded and absorbed this information.

"C'mon, Max. We gotta get you outside," you said. He groaned all the way but you managed to get him up and together you two stumbled towards the door. The air outside was brisk, telling of coming rain and snow. True to the android's word, the ambulance came screaming down the street. Getting Max in the back of it was a blur of bright lights and loud talking from the EMTs. Once he was gone, the chill of the air truly set in. You were only wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top after all.

"Excuse me," someone said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and turned, ready to strike whoever it was. It was the android from earlier. He wore a smart outfit. Everything was neat and pressed. Even his tie was perfectly knotted. "Can I ask you to come back to the station with us? It would be really helpful if we could interview you."

"Right now?" He nodded eagerly. You cast your gaze back to the window of the studio. There was a pool of blood where Max had been laying. "I have to get my bag." The android put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Which one is it?"

"The, uh… black one with my name embroidered on the side," you said, quickly remembering to give him your name. He nodded and gestured to where a grizzled man was leaning against a car.

"That's my partner, Lieutenant Anderson. We'll take you back to the station." You nodded and walked over to the car. He straightened up from where he was leaning and stuck out his hand.

"Hank Anderson. Why don't you get in the car? It's warm in there," he said as he opened the back door. Even though it wasn't a police cruiser, you didn't like the idea of getting inside. He was right however; you felt the burst of warm air from the interior. Still barefoot, you gingerly slid inside. The car was worn and old but it was well-loved and clean. The carpet as soft under your feet and, as you looked down, you noticed that one of your feet was bloody. Oops. You must've stepped in Max's blood. You'd apologize later.

The android stepped outside with your duffel slung over one shoulder and exchanged quiet words with Hank. His gaze flicked to you once or twice during their conversation. Eventually, they stopped talking and got in the car. With a gentle smile, the android turned and deposited your bag beside you.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"You're welcome."

The drive to the station wasn't long although it felt like ages. You kept replaying Max stumbling inside, the android coming in after him, being pinned to the ground. At that memory, your pain came to the forefront of your mind. What had felt like nothing more than a glancing blow at the moment was slowly becoming a sharper throb in your forearm. You unconsciously brought it to your chest and cradled it.

Your reverie was interrupted by the car stopping. Snow was still falling steadily as the android opened the door for you. You stepped outside and automatically shivered.

"Is your foot okay?" the android asked. He had spotted the blood.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. It's Max's," you murmured. "Sorry about that." That part was directed at the lieutenant. "I should've noticed before-"

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," he said, waving you off before you could say anything else. You'd pay for the carpet if needed but you could tell him that later. The station was bustling with activity when you walked in. The android led you to an interrogation room and told you he'd be right with you. They probably needed time to compile a file on Max and the android and whatever else.

You took your time alone to rummage through your bag. You slipped on your socks and joggers. Your shoes, which had been lying next to your bag, had been left at the studio evidently along with your sweatshirt. You slowly sat in the metal chair and chewed on your nails, looking around the room. You brought your knee up to your chin, propping your foot underneath you, and drummed your fingers on it.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back at you and you realized that you had blood on your black top. It was barely visible but you could see the slick reflection in the dim light. The room wasn't exactly homey in the first place but seeing the blood made you feel even colder.

"I'm sorry about that wait," the android said as he entered. He had a file in his hands but it didn't say anything on the label. He reached out and set down the other thing he was carrying. A gray DPD sweater. "I figured you'd be cold," he said with a small smile. You returned the smile and slipped it on over your head. The sleeves hung comically past your fingers and as he spoke, you rolled them up.

"My name is Connor. I work with the DPD on cases involving androids." You finished rolling the sleeves at your elbows and looked to him as he continued talking. His brown eyes were warm and understanding. "I'm sorry about the attack. Can you tell me in your own words what happened?"

You told him, stumbling over your words when you got to your own involvement. As you described the android pinning you down, Connor reached out. He grabbed your hand and you stopped in your storytelling. For a moment, you thought he was trying to comfort you. His gaze wasn't trained on your face anymore however. It was on your arm. A bruise was already forming where the android had hit you. Connor's eyes roved over the mark and he traced one finger along it. You hissed at the pain but didn't jerk away.

"I'm sorry," he said as he released you.

"No, it's fine," you replied. You cradled your arm to your chest. It must just be a bruise if Connor scanned it and didn't say anything. Your story finished with him showing up and scaring the android off. He nodded and opened the file in front of him. He pulled out a picture of someone who was obviously dead.

"Do you know this person?"

"Oh my god," you gasped. Tears flowed down your cheeks before you could stop them. "That's- that's Darcy." Darcy was in your small circle of friends from the studio. You danced with her more than once and had planned on doing something for the upcoming showcase. The color was drained from her skin and her dark brown eyes were closed. Her black hair hung limply on the metal table that she was on. "Did the android kill her too?" you asked between your sobs.

"I'm afraid so. We don't think these attacks are random," Connor said. He was doing a very good job at drawing your focus. With one last effort, you shoved away the picture of Darcy into the corner of your mind. You'd freak out about it later. Talking to Connor needed your focus now. You brushed away your tears and looked at him.

"So somebody's targeting my friends?"

"We think somebody's targeting the studio in general. You guys had some graffiti a while back. Can you think of anyone who would be angry with the studio or even the dance community?" That was a good question. No one had ever been refused lessons at the studio. Showcases weren't competitive. Maybe someone was in a ballroom competition and lost? The answer came to you slowly.

"There was this woman, an android," you said, trying to remember. "She came for a few lessons and made her way up to level 2. Darcy said she creeped her out. She stayed for dancing afterwards but she never danced with anybody. Even when people asked her, she said no." You shrugged. That was all you could remember about her. You only saw her face under the dim lights of the studio when you went dancing. It wasn't often that you did that anyways. You only went when Darcy asked.

Connor nodded and closed the file. He stood and you hastily stood as well. He thanked you for coming in and handed you a card, saying to call if you remembered anything else. You started to hurry out of the station but as soon as you stepped on the tile of the lobby you remembered that your shoes were gone. Oh well. The bus would be a little cold that night.

It wasn't until you were on the bus and burrowing your nose into your sweater that you remembered that the sweater wasn't yours. You took a moment to inhale and try to sniff out if the sweater was new or used. It smelled like laundry detergent but nothing else. If you ever saw Connor or Hank again, you could give it back.

You walked into your apartment, tossed your keys on the counter, and sighed. Sleep was going to elude you that night, you could feel it. As you flicked the light on, you gasped. Your living room was trashed. Pillows had been ripped open and the coffee table was overturned. Your heart raced as you looked at the damage. Your books, some of your most prized possessions, had been knocked over and torn up. There were books among the mess that had been handed down from your grandmother and her mother before her.

Tears welled up in your eyes again and you felt sobs hitch in your chest. Your gaze fell to the back wall where a painting had been torn down. In its place was a photo marked with what looked like blood. It was a photo of you and Max and Darcy. Your friends' faces were marked out and two 'x's were drawn over your eyes.

With trembling hands, you drew your phone and the business card from your pocket and dialed a number you'd thought you'd never have to call.

"Hello?"

"Connor?"

\--

Connor walked into your apartment building to see you curled up in one of the chairs in the lobby. You clutched your keys between your fingers and you jiggled one of your socked feet anxiously. When you spotted him, you stood and rushed to meet him.

"I'm so sorry to call you but I didn't know who else to call and-"

"It's quite alright. Let's go look at the mess." He let you lead him up to the apartment to survey the damage. Most of the damage was superficial, a mess made to look larger than it was. The picture was what unnerved him. That was the kind of thing that put people in protective custody. He said as much to you and you paled. Protective custody was no joke.

"Alright. So how does that work? Do I get a guard or something?"

"You would usually get a rotating schedule of police officers but the lieutenant and I are completely capable of protecting you," he said in an attempt to assuage your nerves. You at least knew Connor and Hank a little bit; it might be more beneficial to you to have them around instead of some strange police officers. You nodded at this. Your heart rate went down a little bit, making Connor feel better.

"I have to start cleaning this up," you mumbled ruefully.

"I have to make some calls but I can help in a few minutes," he said. You started to protest but he was already out the door. He called in to Fowler to let him know where he'd gone and then called Hank. It sounded like he'd roused the lieutenant from sleep despite it only being nine in the evening. When Connor recounted his promise, Hank swore.

"What the hell did you do that for? That just adds to our workload."

"I was trying to make them feel better, Hank. They're in danger, after all," Connor said. The relief you'd felt when Connor said he'd protect you made him feel better. He hadn't realized he'd been tense until that moment. Hank said Connor better do his fair share before hanging up on him. Of course he'd do his fair share; he abhorred the thought of doing any less.

When he entered your apartment, he saw you carefully picking up the torn book pages. You placed them in stacks on your coffee table. He approached and saw that you were sorting them by which book they'd come from. He analyzed the bookshelf and was relieved to see that only about ten books had been ripped apart. The volumes on the top shelf had been left alone which was good; their placement and abundance of fingerprints showed those were your most loved.

"Some of these pages will be alright," he said, tracing a hand over the ones closest to him. "Simply send them to a professional and they can rebind the book for you."

"Some," you mumbled, "But not all." The sorrow in your voice made Connor sigh. Crime was always a tragedy. That was one of the reasons he stayed on the force after becoming a deviant. Many androids left their jobs in pursuit of other things but some kept doing the only thing they knew how to do out of fear of leaving it.

Connor helped you restore your apartment in near silence. He stopped to ask you a question every so often but other than that, you didn't seem keen on talking to him. When you got to the picture on your wall, you ripped up into pieces with a snarl on your face. You hissed curses under your breath as you did so. Connor felt you were fully entitled to your anger. He'd be mad if someone broke into Hank's and did this to the meager possessions he kept there.

"So does protective custody start now? Are you staying the night?" Connor's gaze traveled over to you. You stood across the room, arms crossed protectively. He noticed that you tended to fold in on yourself when you were uncomfortable. First, in the interrogation room. Now, here in your own apartment.

"I can if it would make you feel better," he said. You bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged, averting your eyes. Connor made sure to remind himself that even though he'd helped you out and lent you his sweater, you two weren't friends. You'd barely known each other for four hours and your conversation had been limited to the case.

"Yeah. If you don't mind, I'd like for you to stay," you said in a hushed tone. Connor nodded as you moved back into the hall. He quickly sent Hank a text about staying the night. When he focused back on the world around him, he saw that you were dwarfed in several blankets and pillows. You tossed everything on the couch and set about to making it comfortable. For a moment, Connor blanked. You were sleeping in your own living room?

"Oh," you said suddenly, straightening up with a blue blanket still clutched in your hands. "You're an android. Do you sleep? Darcy was an android too and she never mentioned sleeping but… nobody really does mention it after all." You finished draping the blanket over the couch anyways and turned to him awkwardly.

"It's alright. I usually run diagnostics and go into standby mode. Thank you," he said, offering you a smile. You smiled back meekly. Connor took the moment to analyze you. He'd analyzed you before but that was in the context of the case; this time, he just wanted to see what he could learn from you.

You had a dancer's muscles on your legs and your arms where Connor could see them. You had spent considerable time outside as you had a fading tan line on your wrist from a bracelet or something similar.

"Um, I guess you don't eat or anything," you mumbled, shifting your weight from side to side. You were unaccustomed to having android guests, Connor assumed. He gave you another smile, this one more genuine. He found you endearing for some reason.

"I'll be alright. You must be exhausted though, you should get to bed." You nodded in acknowledgement.

"You're right," you said. "Good night. Holler if you need anything." You disappeared down the hall and he heard the sound of your door opening and closing. Connor settled on the couch. You'd set the coffee table back up and he saw the remote for the TV. He entertained himself by idly clicking through channels and your streaming service, making note of your most frequently watched shows.

He ran several diagnostics and was readying to enter standby mode when he heard your door open. You padded out, arms wrapped around your middle, sniffling. Your eyes were red and you had tear tracks on your face.

"I can't sleep," you said quietly. Connor didn't press for more information. He simply moved over to make space for you on the couch. You sat down and swathed yourself in the blankets you'd brought out for him. "What movies do you like?" you asked, reaching behind you and turning off the lights. The glow from the screen illuminated your profile.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, "I don't really watch them." You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. You clicked onto your streaming service and automatically entered the title of a movie. It was a horror movie. It didn't seem like a good choice based on everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. However, Connor looked over at you after the first ten minutes of the movie and you seemed at peace. Despite the genre, your heart rate was calm.

"It's not a very good movie," you said after noticing him looking at you, "but it always makes me feel better." You misinterpreted his curious look as judgement for your movie choice. He voiced his curiosity to you and you shrugged. "I've been into horror movies since I was a kid. This is one of the first ones I ever saw." Connor nodded, storing away the information for later.

The two of you watched two and a half movies, bouncing from genre to genre in an attempt to find something Connor liked. Halfway through the third one, Connor looked over to you with a comment about the old animation to find you were asleep. He smiled gently and turned off the TV to keep the noise from waking you. The sky was beginning to lighten as he initiated standby mode.

\--

Two weeks had passed and the android had yet to make a move. Connor said she was probably waiting for the right opportunity but you were getting tired of it. Sending Connor away had crossed your mind more than once. You were becoming far too fond of him to do that however.

Connor was the one who would stay with you during the night and he frequently attended your rehearsals. You had yet to bring him out dancing as the pain of losing Darcy was too fresh and you hadn't seen any hint of more than professional feelings from him. Sometimes you thought that his gaze was too soft while watching you dance but you were never completely sure. You just tried to ignore him while you were dancing.

"What made you decide to devote your life to dance?" Connor asked on one of your water breaks. You took a few gulps from your water bottle and stared him down. You shrugged and tossed it back in your bag.

"It makes me feel good. Doesn't catching criminals make you feel the same way?" Connor's LED spun yellow as he thought. Your eyes roved over his face. His brown eyes were fixated on a spot behind you and his brows were slightly furrowed. If you were honest with yourself, you found that you wanted Connor around even when he wasn't standing guard. Sometimes Hank was with you, other times you had a police officer. It wasn't like you hated the other people protecting you; you just preferred Connor.

"I guess it does. I've never really thought of it that way," Connor said, breaking your reverie. You gave him a small smile and moved back to the center of the studio. The whole time, you felt Connor's eyes on you. His gaze sent a perpetual tingle down your spine, one that wasn't wholly unpleasant. You threw yourself into your choreography in an attempt to rid yourself of it.

On one particular turn, you went into it with too much momentum. Your body gave an extra half-turn and your balance went out from under you. The air rushed out of your lungs as you smacked into the slick wooden floor.

Connor was above you immediately, helping you stand, and watching as you took inventory of your body, making sure that nothing was sprained or broken. You clutched onto his hand for longer than was necessary but you blamed that on your disorientation.

"Are you okay? Your face hit the ground pretty hard," Connor remarked once you let go of his hand. His fingers ghosted over your cheekbone. You yearned to lean forward and nestle into his touch but you resisted. You settled for nodding and moving away.

Those thoughts were dangerous. If Connor knew how you felt, he'd probably stop protecting you. Plus there was another factor to consider: your trauma. Were these emotions just the result of your emotions being sent to tremendous lows and trying to bounce back? It was all running through your head as you resumed your routine.

"Hey, Connor," you said as you finished a set of turns. You gently settled back on flat feet and stared at him in the mirror. Everything in your mind was screaming at you not to say anything but it came out anyways. "I might go dancing tomorrow night. Would you be interested in learning?"

Connor stared back at you silently. His LED was yellow. He was probably looking up the information about the studio and the nights they opened up for swing dancing.

"I don't mind standing on the sidelines," he said with a shrug. You didn't let that deter you.

"Yeah, but I'd be worried about how much fun you're having."

"I don't get much time for fun in my line of work anyways," Connor replied, giving you a level look. You rolled your eyes and smiled. That was all the more reason to get out there and dance. You told him so and he stared back at you in contemplation. You walked over and held your hand out, waiting for him to take it. He did hesitantly with an unreadable expression.

You rushed over to the speaker to turn on something slow enough and when you turned back around, you saw that Connor had taken off his jacket. He wasn't a broad guy but his starched white shirt was stretching across his shoulders in a way that made you blush.

"I can lead or you can," you said, walking back over and waiting for your blush to fade. The corner of Connor's lips twitched; you couldn't shake the feeling he knew what you were thinking.

"I'd prefer to follow if that's okay." You wondered if he followed in other situations but you quickly swallowed the thought.

Although you normally took the feminine roles in dancing, you knew how to lead in swing dancing. You lead Connor through the steps and were pleased to find that he was a quick learner. In a daring move, you pulled him in close and spun around once. He stepped back in the natural rhythm of the dance with a grin. That spurred you on even further and you kept leading him into more and more elaborate moves. You were excited not only by the dancing but also how close you were standing to Connor.

"I think I might like to go dancing with you tomorrow," Connor said as you two slowly stopped moving. You pulled him in and expected him to move back but he stayed right where he was. You didn't know who moved in first but suddenly you were kissing. His lips were soft against yours, almost hesitant. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Connor's hands tightened on yours and you stepped even closer until your chests were pressed together.

When you released Connor's hand to rest your hand against his cheek, he broke away with a gasp. It registered in the back of your mind that he couldn't possibly be out of breath due to being an android.

"We can't be doing this," Connor said. His cheeks were flushed a pretty blue color as he stared over your shoulder. As much as it pained you to say, you knew he was right. You gave an acquiescing nod and stepped away, your hand falling away from his. You immediately missed the contact. Connor took a few steps backward and straightened his tie. He turned and marched back to where your bag lay to slide his jacket back on. You saw that his LED was spinning yellow. You knew that when you got back to your apartment, someone else would be waiting there to watch over you.

The air outside of the studio was colder than normal as Connor kept his distance. You remembered one time that he let you borrow his jacket after you'd gotten splashed by an oncoming car. Currently, you were wearing the DPD sweater that Connor had given you the first night you'd met. A ball of anger suddenly flared up in your chest. You marched ahead of Connor and slung your bag off your shoulder. You wrenched the sweater over your head, ignoring the goosebumps that erupted on your bare arms.

"Are you sure that's wise? It's currently below 35 degrees." You didn't turn to acknowledge him. You were torn on whether or not to shove the gray sweater into your bag or shove it into his chest. You quickly reprimanded yourself. Connor wasn't to blame for rejecting you; it was the job that got in the way. The angry part of your mind whispered that Connor was well-respected in the DPD and he could do whatever he wanted. The other part just whispered that even now he was trying to protect you. It was your fault for falling for him. You were backing him into this corner.

The trip back to your apartment was long, cold, and lonely. You couldn't bring yourself to bounce back and start up the conversation you'd had in the studio so you stayed silent. When you arrived at your apartment, Officer Chen was standing outside your door. You nodded at her in acknowledgement.

"Come on in," you said with a forced smile, holding your door open. She walked in and you quickly shut the door behind her. You weren't willing to say goodbye to Connor or to see him one last time. You wanted to distance yourself and make it easier to know that you'd probably never see him again.


End file.
